


Inclement Weather

by Red Dragon (Red_Dragonn)



Series: tumblr prompts [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff and Angst, I Ship It, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Magic storm, Not A Fix-It, Originally Posted on Tumblr, The opposite of a fix-it, Tumblr Prompt, a break-it?, i hope you all appreciate that, i like to do angst, i made up an entire set of weather patterns and researched it and everything for those two lines, idk but it warns tucker to get the fuck away a few times he just ignores it, it's cute and sweet and there is pain at the end i am warnign you, not even joking, this is angst, this is longer than the other ones but not by much, this is my one of like two OTPS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 09:19:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11399637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Dragonn/pseuds/Red%20Dragon
Summary: Tucker falls for Felix during the early part of season 12.the prompt for this one was, word-for-word:“did..you just…stab me…”“yes”"why?”so although i would love it to be a sweet endgame Tuckelix fic, i fear that is not in the cards today.





	Inclement Weather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Poplitealqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poplitealqueen/gifts).



Did you know it never rains in this part of Chorus?

No, really. This place has set weather patterns, but it never rains. It might snow, but it never rains, as far as Tucker can tell. He’s asked around, eventually, but no one seems to know if it ever even has. 

He chalked it up to “weird alien planet” and let it lie.

But Chorus definitely has its own version of the dramatic thunderstorm. It comes in with huge clouds of ice and wind, almost akin to a sandstorm. It howls at the opening to the hole in the ground that Kimball’s rebellion operates from like a thousand voices screaming in fury at what had become of their home, their hope, their lives, their dreams. Tucker tries his damndest to ignore the ghostly oaths and curses he can just almost hear during those sudden, icy storms. 

He asks Kimball why they sound so angry (and awake, he tries to avoid mentioning), and she tells him about the storms instead. “They come down from the mountains, where it is high enough for snow to lay year-round, and they only last for half an hour or so because they are small, fast storms. Don’t get lost in one, don’t go out in one. But it’s nothing to worry about. They just have fast winds. That’s what you were asking about, right?”

He doesn’t correct her.

* * *

Eventually he works up the nerve, puts his feelings down on paper and leaves it where he knows Felix will find it. And a question. “Meet me outside the base?”

A reply materializes inside his abandoned helmet during lunch. “Tonight, after drills.” There’s no signature, but Tucker knows who it’s from.

* * *

It starts to storm while Tucker is waiting for Felix to show. Felix is standing four feet away, waiting for him. 

The ice in the air is so thick that neither can see, and the wind lashes at their armor and scratches at their paint. 

Felix gets bored, starts sharpening a knife, fidgeting with a gun, juggling pieces of equipment from hand to hand for something to do. Tucker paces like a caged animal. They don’t see each other. 

The wind rips at their visors, tries to pry the weapons from their hands, screaming _no_ and _run_ and _leave_. Tucker tries very hard to ignore that it calls him by name. He hears the name Isaac. He ignores that, too. 

The storm dies like a fire, quickly and violently. Suddenly it’s gone, and Tucker can see Felix standing right in front of him; the wind, still there, pushes him back and away from the mercenary. But this is the fading edge of the storm, low on strength, and Tucker ignores it like he’s done his hardest to ignore everything else. 

“You came!” Felix said; Tucker resisted the occasion to make an innuendo and instead went with a simple “Yeah.“

“So.” Felix shrugs, fixing Tucker with a curious stare. “What are we doing here?”

“You read the letter, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, you like me. What are you gonna do about it?”

“You, for starters. Bow chicka bow wow.”

Felix looked at him. Alright, it was a stupid joke, but that--did he cross a line, or something--he was just so _silent_ \--

Felix laughed. “At least buy me dinner first.”

“What, you want me to take you out for ice cream or something?”

“Or something, yeah.”

“Well, what the fuck do you want? This isn’t exactly the best place to go out on a date.”

Felix thought for a second. “Meet me in the shooting range in three days at midnight.”

“Midnight? Got it.”

* * *

Tucker scavenged a package of condoms and lube for their next meeting, but he didn’t need it. 

They shot guns and broke shit and talked and joked, and just as the sun finally rose, Felix kissed him hard and wild and sloppy and _so, so well_. “Let’s do this again.”

 

“Yeah,” Tucker gasped out. “Let’s.”

* * *

Kimball called Tucker into her office that afternoon, gave him a half-full bottle of rum and a couple of old chocolates, and told him “if you try to hurt my mercenary, I’ll let Felix do whatever he wants to you.”

Tucker found that mental image to be unaccountably hot; still, he couldn’t possibly imagine that Kimball had any way to stop Felix from doing anything once the mercenary had truly set his sights on it. 

Still. That was fucking _hot_.

* * *

They kept meeting, and it only got better.

Tucker was starting to run low on condoms.  


* * *

It was the little things that Tucker started noticing. The way that Felix stopped cursing when he stubbed his toe on the table in the dark. The way he never seemed to get tired around Tucker anymore. The way he got angry, when he turned dark and vicious, that always made Tucker just the slightest bit nervous. The constant joking getting, well, _more_ constant.

Tucker knows what Felix is doing, because he does it himself. He’s withdrawing. Trying to pull away from Tucker.

Tucker just wants to know _why_ , goddamnit! They’re partners. If there’s something he’s doing to drive Felix away, he wants to know. He wants to _stop doing it_. Too many people (Church, Carolina, Tex, Wash) have left him. And god _damn_ it, but he is not losing another person!

“Felix, I need to talk to you.”

“What’s happening, Tucker?”

Tucker takes a deep breath: in, out. Far above, the wind begins to howl faintly.

“Is there something I’m doing wrong, Felix?”

“What?”

Silence reigns. This time of night, everyone else is asleep. Only the furious mountain wind raises in pitch, shrieking with the sound of Chorus’s winds ripping themselves to pieces.

“I...I mean. Am i doing something that you need me to stop? Why are you pulling away from me, Felix? What the _fuck_ am I doing _wrong_?”

Felix stared at him. “I--” he stopped, started again. “It’s not--” Stopped. Thought. Started a third time. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I thought we were pretty close last night.” And then he did the thing where he tilted his head so that you knew he was joking. But for fuck’s sake…

“Hey, man, I’m being serious here.”

“So am I. What the fuck are you talking about, Tucker? 

“Seriously, you’re gonna pull that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t show your emotions any more. We were friends before we added benefits. I...I don’t want to let what we have ruin what we _had_. You have to _work with me_ , Felix!”

The wind was loud enough that Tucker thought he could pick out words once more. _Stop_ , and Isaac, and whoever the fuck that was was starting to get on Tucker’s nerves because it sure as fuck wasn’t the first time he’d thought he could hear the fucking ice storms whisper-scream it; and _pain_ , repeated on a constant loop. 

Felix was silent.

Tucker...waited, but honestly, his patience was worn thin. “Are you just gonna fucking stand there all night and wait for me to just give up and fucking leave?” he exploded. “What the _fuck_ , Felix!”

Felix’s voice was vibrating with barely controlled anger as he choked out the words. “You don’t know the _first_ thing about me, Tucker.” The sheer _violence_ in his voice had Tucker unconsciously taking a step back before he could even think about it, but the mercenary simply turned and left the room.

Tucker stared after him and tried to ignore that the wind sounded like it was shrieking that he should _follow him_.

* * *

He eventually wrote another letter, left it where he had left the first. Same question, same answer. They met in moonlight outside the base, but this time the air was still and tense and dead, dead silent. 

Tucker brought a bottle of beer and an apology.

Felix brought a knife.

* * *

Tucker wasn’t sure exactly where he’d just been stabbed, only that it was in his stomach somewhere and that it hurt like hell and everything was cold and vaguely blurry around the edges. The air was too still. He was too used to hearing it whisper names and words and warning that he ignored into his ears. 

Everything fizzled out and twisted and he couldn’t recognize anything. It was sideways. No, he was sideways. Why did his fingers feel so cold?

He suddenly registered that he was not lying on the ground but slumped over someone’s legs. _Felix_. Felix would help him. Felix loved him. Wait. No. Felix stabbed him. 

“W...why ?” he managed to choke out past the blood in his mouth, and abruptly realized with the sudden clarity of someone who knows that they are about to die and understands that in all that it entails: if he doesn’t bleed out, he’s going to drown in his helmet. He’s choking and coughing blood with every breath. That’s enough to shock him back into some semblance of functionality.

Felix takes off his own helmet, takes off Tucker’s. There’s something shining in his onyx eyes that makes them seen unusually bright. Tucker tries again. “Why...did you do that?”

“I…” Felix flags, searching for something to say.

“C..can you be str..straight with me here? Why...why?”

“I…” he sighed. “I...we...you got too close. I fell for you.”

Tucker sputtered. “That’s a _good_ thing!” he coughed out. “Not a...a stabbing offense!” 

“I couldn’t let you have that _control over me_ ,” Felix yelled, loud. It broke the stillness of the too-quiet night, and for some reason, that let Tucker somehow _register_ the fucked up shit that had just happened. 

“The _fuck!_ ” Tucker spat. “What the fuck is...is _wrong_ with you? That isn’t how relationships _work!_ ” He stopped for a minute, his mouth full of blood, and spat it to the side. It dripped down his face and landed on Felix’s armor. Whatever. “You care about someone, and they fucking care back. I _fucking cared about you_ , Felix.”

“...I, I mean…”

“You should have just _told_ me you have issues! What the hell!”

The world was swimming behind Tucker’s eyes, and so he shut them. Sounding impossibly far away, Felix said, “I just didn’t want you to hurt me.”

Tucker froze. “Good fuckin’ job,” he muttered. “You hurt me instead. Way to fucking go.”

A drop of water hit Tucker’s cheek, and then another. And Tucker, as it all faded into blackness and the faint, chemical aftertaste of some crappy energy drink, still had time for one last thought:

_I thought it didn’t rain on Chorus._

**Author's Note:**

> hey yo if you read my other stuff you'll know this but uh. if you leave a comment i will love you forever and i will respond just about as soon as i see it you could literally just go _asdfgghjkk;zxcvm,.wertyuiop_ and i'd go AHHH A COMMENT OH LOOOK THERE ARE MORE THAN ONE LETTER I MUST NOW SCREECH LIKE A VELOCIRAPTOR BECAUSE HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO EXCITING  
>  and that would be fun. so please 
> 
> Edit: increment was the wrong word; the title is now inclement. Which means bad, not fractional. I hate myself.


End file.
